City of Magic
by ForeverForNow
Summary: Basically, this is the City of Bones, from Magnus and Alec's point of view. review.  ON HIATUS, NOT CONTINUING AT THE MOMENT
1. Pandemonium

**DISCLAIMER: **I do not own any of this, except for the (brilliant) spin on things. :P  
Unfortunately, Cassandra Clare is the God (or Godess?) of this world. But, hey, I like Alec and Magnus better than Clary and Jace, so I decided to re-write the ENTIRE series in their POV! Yes, that does include when Alec is sent to switch places with Jace in Magnus's care. :D  
(Don't deny you don't secretly want to know everything that happens between the lines of The Mortal Instruments..)  
RATED T BECAUSE I CAN.  
Emily xx

**-CITY OF MAGIC-  
**_Chapter 1_

Alec Lightwood was anything but a quitter.

Sure, he may be quiet, moody, totally unconfident in himself and a highly pessimistic guy for a Shadowhunter in Brooklyn, USA, but he was definitely not a quitter.  
That's why when his little sister called him and asked him to come along on a demon-slaying trip to Pandemonium, a local mundane nightclub where a disguised monster was hunting, he didn't think twice about going, as much as he may hate, well… killing things.

After putting on his much-abused not-quite-black sweater, and grabbing his bow and some seraph blades, he snatched his combat boots off the table and sat at a chair in the foyer of the Institute to put them on without falling over. Once he was done lacing his boots, he got into his car and followed Isabelle's instructions to the club.

They met outside the entrance, and Alec scanned the vast line for the Eidolon demon a local fey had reported to them. Blue hair, pale skin, green eyes… nobody, despite the amount of Downworlders amongst the clueless mundanes waiting to enter, matched it's description.

"Izzy, I don't see anything." Jace sighed, rubbing his hands through his golden hair. Alec felt a shiver run through him as Jace's biceps rippled.

Isabelle made an unattractive noise, and snapped at Jace. "Just 'cause you have the peripheral vision of a donut, doesn't mean the rest of us do too."

She pointed towards the front of the line, to a kid being hassled by a bouncer. His blue hair shone slightly, and to eyes as trained as the three young Shadowhunters', he emanated a devilish aura. They immediately sensed his demon blood, and looking past the glamour it had flung around itself, they saw the monster beneath.

"Ugh. Ew. Trust the adults to leave shit like this to us."

"Izzy, honestly? They don't get much better than that…" Isabelle looked up at her brother. Then she snickered.

"Yeah, I guess you're right. We have to put up with _him-_" She jerked her thumb at Jace, "-every day." Alec doubled over in laughter, as Jace frowned and sneered at the laughing Shadowhunters.

"If it's okay with you two, I'm gonna go find this god-damned demon before it eats the DJ."

Still chuckling, the three walked into the club freely, courtesy of their glamours. They walked past countless werewolves, vampires, fairies and mundanes alike as they searched for the demon. Isabelle was wearing a floor-length, long-sleeved white gown and their grandmother's pendant around her neck to cover the marks that decorated her alabaster skin, Jace a black shirt and jeans, and Alec his customary padded cargos and hole-riddled sweater.

Alec was watching Jace as they manoeuvred their way through swaying bodies and thrashing limbs. His golden eyes were piercing, excited for the hunt. Alec imagined an eagle, eyes intent on a small mouse or fish.

Suddenly Isabelle gasped, and whispered in Alec's ear.

"Over there, by the storage room door."

Jace and Alec turned towards the door and spotted the demon not too far away.

"Okay, so I have a plan." She grinned mischievously. Her grin widened as she explained, and the two boys had very different reactions to it.

Alec's was a mixture of horror and fury, quickly being overtaken by worry.

"Ab- No wa- definitely not! It's absolutely too dangerous, Isabelle."

Jace, on the other hand, merely burst into laughter and gave her a pat on the back.

"Brilliant, Izzy! This ought to be good."

Since nobody really listens to Alec that much, Jace managed to pull him into the throng of people outside the storage room to hide in the shadows, waiting for his sister to lure the thing into their grasps.

Isabelle smoothed out her jet-black hair, and headed straight for the demon-boy. As soon as she caught it's attention, she smiled and beckoned for it to follow her. She saw it's disgusting eyes burn with hunger, and her stomach lurched.

_Now is _not _the time to be feeling queasy, _she told herself, concentrating again on the task at hand. She slowly opened the storage room door, marked 'no admittance', and felt, rather than heard, the demon's footsteps follow her into the room, silently closing the door behind itself. If only it knew what it was getting itself into.

It smiled at her as soon as she stopped walking and turned to face it.

"What's your name?" It asked, in an awful voice. Isabelle fluttered her lashes at it, and replied;

"Isabelle." He took a few silent steps towards her, and spoke again in it's disgusting hollow tone of voice.

"That's a nice name." It glanced down to make sure there was no danger on the floor before moving even closer to her. "I haven't seen you here before."

_Damn right you haven't stupid filth. _Isabelle sternly told her head to shut up, and giggled in an extremely convincing way.

"You're asking me if I come here often?" she covered her mouth with her hand, and saw it's eyes widen in horror at the glance to her wrist as it noticed her mark for agility.

He froze, eyes widening. "You-"  
He didn't finish. She moved with lightning swiftness, striking out at him with her open hand, a blow to his chest that would have sent him down gasping if he'd been a human being.

He staggered back, and now there was something in her hand, a coiling whip that glinted gold as she brought it down, curling around his ankles, jerking him off his feet. He hit the ground, writhing, the hated metal biting deep into his skin. She laughed, standing over him, and mentally congratulated herself. _Score 1, Isabelle. Score 0, nasty smelly demon boy. _

She pulled the whip tighter and laughed again, addressing the boys she could sense were waiting right outside the door for her signal.

"He's all yours, boys."


	2. Scars

_Chapter 2_

The rest of the night had passed fairly strangely, in Alec's opinion, what with the discovery of Clary and Simon, and the demon telling them news of Valentine before it's hasty return back to Hell.

They were back at the Institute, and Alec was washing his face clean of stress. Or at least, he was trying to. Seeing Jace like that, all ripped up and bloody… it had been excruciating to watch as his little sister had to draw the Iratzes on his body to stop the bleeding, but those cuts would take hours to heal.

Alec knew from experience that distractions are the worst thing during battle, and the look he'd seen in Jace's eyes as he looked at the strange mundie girl with the red hair was far from being merely _distracted._

It was plainly obvious across his features- Jace had a thing for her. And trusting his reputation, he would pursue it. The girl was short, skinny, flat-chested and annoyingly insightful. She had green eyes, and plain fair skin. There was nothing _pretty _about her. Though knowing Jace, it wouldn't stop him from getting laid tonight.

Alec, of course, was constantly at war with himself over Jace, what with his feelings for him and the amount of women that boy went out with on a regular basis, it was a wonder Alec had any sanity left. Abandoning any attempts to wash away his fears, he headed downstairs to check on his friend's wounds.

_**Later that night**_

"Jace, for the millionth time; you need to be more careful! You could have _died_!" Alec's voice broke on the last word, and he threw his arms up above his head in exasperation. "Do you have any idea how much you mean to me-" He spluttered, "-to us, I mean? Do you?"

Jace rolled his eyes, then winced as Isabelle dabbed alcohol on his opened cuts. The demon had gouged deep, ugly scars into Jace's chest and back, and the Iratze was taking it's time with the healing.  
You could tell Jace was in pain, but he tried his best to hide it. It would have fooled anyone who didn't know him well enough- anyone like _Clary._

"Alec…" He sighed. "You really need to calm down. I'm fine, see? No harm done..."

The look on Alec's face at that comment effectively shut Jace up. Before it could turn into a fight again, Isabelle hastily pushed Alec towards the door.

"Alec, Jace just needs to rest, okay? Let him sleep. Go read to Max or something." Giving up, Alec stormed out and went to check on his youngest sibling. _If only Jace knew how much he really does mean to me, _Alec thought to himself miserably as he trudged up the worn stairs.

**AUTHOR'S NOTE:  
Sorry for the small chapter, but I thought that it was a good place to stop it ..**


	3. Message

_The angel had piercing, pupil-less ice blue eyes,  
black flowing hair to his shoulders, and perfect features.  
His shoulders were broad and smooth, with perfectly toned arms and uncalloused hands,  
clutching a golden bow in his right hand, a phoenix-feathered silver arrow in his left.  
His muscled abdomen was hinted at under his black robes,  
and his wide silver wings fluttered in the breezeless air.  
Magnus watched the angel in silence,  
fully aware of it's unbelievable magnificence, but totally unable to move._

_The angel spoke three simple words, spreading it's arms wide and embracing the warlock with ageless warmth. _

"_Your wait ends," It sang, then it started to shimmer, fading into nothing right before Magnus's eyes. _

"_Wha- what wait? Stop! No- who are you?" _

_His hand shot out to grab the angel, but grasped empty air instead. The perfect creature was gone. An unsettling cold wind swept his long hair into his eyes, and he sank to his knees.  
All the light in the field was gone, leaving the clearing dark and cold. _

_There were no stars in the sky, no moon to guide Magnus to light.  
Feeling as empty and alone as could be possible, the warlock cried silently into his palms until it started to rain, cold, pelting drops of water. _

Magnus woke from his afternoon nap with something cold and wet repeatedly touching his face. He rolled over and sat up in confusion. A startled growl came from under his yellow sheets, making his jump.

"Chairman Meow! You _scared _me!" He scooped the small but fat cat out of his bed, cradling him to his chest with one arm as he wiped the cat saliva off his nose. "Stupid cat," he muttered. Chairman Meow hissed at him.

"No, I just fed you before. Let me wake up in peace." The cat made another noise, prying himself off Magnus's chest and padding out of his bedroom.

"Stupid, ungrateful son of a-"

"MROW!"

Magnus chuckled to himself and ran a hand down his face, stifling a yawn.  
_What a weird dream,_ he thought to himself.

It was unusual for him to dream at all, what with him being a warlock and immortal and everything, but when he did it was always for a very good reason.  
_Maybe it's a sign, maybe I'll meet that gorgeous-eyed spunk of an angel while walking Chairman Meow or something. _

It seemed unlikely though, whether he was referring to meeting the angel or Chair actually allowing himself to be walked by Magnus, it didn't matter. They were both pretty much impossible outcomes.

He slipped his feet into fluffy red slippers, pulled a cashmere blue robe over his bare chest and headed to his apartment's kitchen. He snapped his fingers and a muffin and coffee appeared on his cluttered kitchen table.

"Mmm. Nice and fresh, that's how I like my evening coffees." He started to whistle for no apparent reason, and slid into one of the red leather chairs sitting at his (circular, of course) table.

As he dug his fingers into the delectably fluffy goodness of a Top Deck chocolate-chip muffin he downed his coffee, and snapped it into the bin outside his Brooklyn apartment.

Settling into the world of content fullness, he put his feet up on another chair and relaxed. That is, until his phone started to ring.  
Again.

Magnus remained seated, mouth still full of chocolate crumbs and frothy caffiene, as his phone rang out, and the frantic voice of Jocelyn Fray shouted at his voicemail.

"So, you've apparently managed to contact the magnificent Magnus Bane, High Warlock of Brooklyn, and Chairman Meow, cat extraordinaire, et. etc. First of all, congratulations. Secondly, if you are a client of any kind I am currently in Tanzania on vacation, so hang up now. …  
Right, now if you're still listening I assume you're a friend or significant other, but I'm afraid that unless I am asleep or ignoring you I actually do happen to be out. I may or may not decide to get back to you if you leave me a message after the beep, but that, my friend, is up to me, and me alone."  
There was the faint sound of Chairman Meow hissing, and then a girly 'fuck!' as Magnus was scratched, then the fateful beep.  
Not a second later, the harsh cries of what sounded like a dying donkey were filling his otherwise quiet apartment with sound.

"MAGNUS BANE, MY DAUGHTER NEEDS YOUR SPELL _NOW_, OR SHE WILL START TO SEE DOWNWORLDERS AND SHADOWHUNTERS, AND I ALREADY FEAR THAT SHE MAY HAVE STARTED TO, SO IF YOU DON'T GET YOUR LAZY BEHIND BACK HERE FROM _WHEREVER THE HELL _YOU MAY BE IN THE NEXT _TWO DAYS _I SWEAR I WILL PICK UP A BLADE AND GO CLAVE ON YOU! BY THE _ANGEL, _YOU ARE SUCH AN INSUFFERABLE FOOL, DO YOU HAVE ANY IDE-"

Still cringing from her harsh cries, Magnus pulled the answering machine out of the wall with a snap of his fingers. His message bank had been full of much the same messages three days ago when he arrived home from, incidentally, Tanzania. He had been visiting friends in a village not far from the main city.

He sighed and relaxed back into his chair, putting his long arms behind his neck and leaning back.

Let her believe he was still there, after all, who was she to threaten a three-hundred year old warlock?


	4. Safe

"Okay, that's enough buddy. I'm gonna go check on Jace one more time, then I'm off to bed too."

Alec put the comic he'd been reading to Max down on his bedside table with the rocket-shaped alarm clock. His little brother was lying in his bed, black hair falling into his eyes, glasses askew with exhaustion.

"One more, Alec. Please? Just one. I'm not tired yet, I promise!" He yawned and quickly shoved his hand over his mouth to cover it up.

"Max, you're exhausted. Go to sleep." Rolling his eyes, Alec got up off the floor.

"No! I want another book. I'll read it myself, just grab it for me!" The scrawny kid's eyes narrowed in anger.

"No, Max you need your sleep. You can read tomorrow." Alec turned to turn out the light.

"But…" Alec paused in delayed anticipation. There was never a time where Max would give up an argument that easily.

"Max?" There was no answer, and Alec started to worry. He whirled around;

"Max! Are you okay?" Then he saw the little boy's eyes were shut, and his mouth was moving with every deep breath he took.

Alec sighed in relief, tucking his sleeping brother into the sheets.  
He kissed him once on the nose, and whispered goodnight before slipping out into the hall.

He heard Isabelle laughing in her room, then she started saying something about a party and Alec was sure she was on the phone to one of her friends, so he left her alone in fear of his personal safety.  
He remembered when once he barged in on her while she was talking to her current boyfriend, a werewolf at the time, and she had hit him so hard he still had the scar of the Iratze he had used to heal the bruise.

But Alec couldn't resist checking on Jace just once more- to be certain. To be able to fall asleep knowing that his parabatai was safe and well.

As he crept into the sleeping Jace's room, he noticed how much better he was looking compared to before. There were no cuts now, just scars, and a few bruises.  
_Jace was right. _Alec heard a voice in the back of his head say.  
_You really do worry too much. He can take care of himself. _

Alec soon found himself standing there, silently staring at Jace. Emotions welled up inside him, and he had to fight the sudden urge to burst into tears. Jace looked so peaceful sleeping, stripped of his arrogant mask; it was like a doorway to his soul.

A doorway to the real Jace Wayland, the Jace Wayland that Alec unfortunately loved.  
This thought, of course, triggered his less-welcome fantasies and as usual, Alec forced his imagination to stop in its tracks before he could hurt himself again.

Out of nowhere, Jace suddenly spoke. "I know I'm gorgeous and everything, but what's with the staring Alec?"

Alec jumped about a foot and a half and let out a small (but extremely girly) high-pitched squeal in surprise, his hand flying to his throat.

"Wait… or are you Isabelle? That was definitely a girly noise." Jace squinted into the dim room.

Alec felt his cheeks go bright red.  
"No, it's me, Alec… I, uh- I was just checking to see if you were okay. Um, if you, you know, need a drink or something… anything.. I can get you?" He stuttered.

Jace looked at him funnily.

"Goodnight, Alec." He spoke loud and clearly, as if Alec might not understand.

His cheeks flushing again, Alec bowed his head and grunted in agreement, turning to leave as Jace spoke again.

"Oh, and Alec?" Alec barely looked back up at him. _Shit._

"Mm?" His voice came out sounding strangled, and Alec's already impossibly bright cheeks grew a few shades hotter.

"Next time you stare at me like that for that long I expect at least a self-portrait. Got that?" He grinned evilly.

Alec rolled his eyes in relief and left, closing the door behind him to Jace's quiet chuckling.

_He was joking._ Alec laughed out loud in relief at his unusual burst of luck.


	5. Witchwork

Magnus's evening had gone progressively downhill after he was woken from his beauty sleep by Chairman Meow, and so he set it about himself to get his chores done.

He had cleaned his apartment, washed his clothes, cleaned the cat's litter tray and restocked the fridge all in the matter of a few minutes of finger clicking.

It was pretty tough work for one's thumb, being a warlock.

After a heated, soapy shower and some re-application of various colors of glitter to his spiked hair, Magnus was ready to do one of his tedious tasks that couldn't be achieved with a simple _snap._

He grabbed one of his more formal cloaks, cape and all, and began the walk to the small brownstone building in Park Slope that probably contained the most interesting aspects of Brooklyn right there under it's eaves.

What with Jocelyn's apartment and Dorothea's portal, Magnus spent almost more time there than he did at the spa.

In other words, too much of his time.

He would just have to be careful to not bump into Jocelyn while visiting Dorothea tonight, as he could guess she wouldn't take lightly to the fact he'd lied to her and not answered her calls.

When he finally stood in front of the building, he quickly checked his self-protection and illusion spells and was satisfied that he was still indeed one hundred percent glamour-ous. Laughing at his little joke, he pressed the caller button next to Dorothea's name.

She buzzed him in without checking to see who it was first.

_Magnus frowned, that was just a little dangerous, didn't she think_?

He made up his mind to talk to her about it once inside.

The old lady smiled wildly at him as he entered and grasped him into a tight hug.

"Magnus, dear! It's been a while since your last visit. Do you need another _Warlock's Weekly _Spellbook? This month's edition hasn't arrived yet, I'm afraid. You'll have to come again next week." She smiled fondly at him and patted his cheek.

"You're such a good boy, Magnus. I wish all warlocks would behave like you do towards an old lady like me."

He laughed. "Dorothea, you're crazy. Me? Good? I don't think I've ever heard those two words in the same sentence before, unless the words 'bed' and 'in' are involved."

The old prophetess was far beyond noticing innuendoes.

"Tea, dear? Or, oh! I've got this new one- just came in from Cambodia! Supposed to be a faerie blend." Magnus politely refused the offer- last time he'd accepted a 'new drink' from Dorothea he had grown a tail. Took him a good two weeks to locate a spell to reverse the effects, and his reputation could simply _not _withstand that bad an impalement again- and took a seat at Dorothea's card table.

"I think you know why I'm here, Dorothea."

She nervously started to play with the costume jewellery rings on her thumbs.

"Magnus... I don't know if you should continue to ignore Jocelyn in this way. She is an extremely powerful Shadowhunter; after all... we wouldn't want you getting yourself in trouble with the Clave. You're a good High Warlock."

Magnus sighed in exasperation. "Yes, I know that, but that god-awful daughter of hers is just getting harder and harder to enchant, I don't know how long the next session will last, or whether it will do any good on her at all, and I just can't afford to pay Jocelyn insurance if something goes wrong."

"So tell her that you're done. Tell her to go somewhere else. And Clarissa is quite the lovely young lady, I can assure you. Just last week she helped me move that horrid couch from upstairs..."

"Dorothea, I could have helped with that in but a _snap_. Besides, who else can she go to? What other warlock is capable- let alone willing enough- to perform this complex a spell? I'm the only warlock with a certificate within the state, and she can't just take her daughter on a wild goose chase with the chance she might _see _something."

Magnus hung his head in his hands. This job could be quite the challenge.

Dorothea was quiet for a moment, and then she spoke.

"Well, then, Magnus, I don't believe there is anything I can offer you, not advice nor help will solve your problem. It was nice seeing you but I really must get back to my work." He sighed again and thanked her for her time, grabbing his cloak on his way out. He stopped at the door, however, and turned back to the old lady. In an uncharacteristically soft tone of voice, Magnus told her something that he thought she needed to hear from him.

"Really, Dorothea. Thank you. You've been like a mother to me, and I know I don't treat you well enough."

She looked flustered for a minute, then blushed in pleasure and pushed him out. "Goodnight, dear."

Magnus suddenly remembered his earlier decision.

"Oh yeah, one more thing. You really should stop to see who is at your door before you buzz them in, I don't want you to get yourself killed, you silly old bat."

She flicked her hand at him. "Go on, now! Time for you to get out before I regret my earlier praise for your behavior."

Magnus walked to the door that leads to the hallway and opened it wide, stepping out to the sight of two mundanes rushing down the stairs.

One was tall, lanky and dark-haired with glasses and an irritating t-shirt that quoted some geeky game.

The other startled him, she looked so much like Jocelyn herself.

But this was a younger Jocelyn, he realized.

She was bouncy and small and fragile-looking still.

But her flaming red hair and green eyes gave her away. This was Clarissa, Jocelyn's daughter.

She surprised him yet again by looking right at him, and the expression on her face indicated that she fully recognized his alien looks, flash clothes and hair, cat-eyes, and she could tell he wasn't human.

Well, not totally human anyway.

He threw a dazzling smile at her, and watched the horror on her face intensify.

_By the Angel, _he thought to himself_. Jocelyn was right. This girl is in dangerously close proximity to breaking the walls guarding the glamours of the hidden worlds she truly belongs in._

He quickly threw up a spell of invisibility around himself and saw her confusion as she said something to the boy and they left.

There was shouting coming from Jocelyn's apartment and Magnus heard his name along with a string of profanities, and hastily retreated to the cool streets of Brooklyn, heading home after a strange yet eventful night.


	6. Home

Alec was sitting at a desk in the library, listening to Hodge's argument with Jace while Isabelle played with her stele beside him.

"...but Hodge, she could _see _us. She can't be a mundane- I would have sensed it. She has to be one of us."

Hodge pinched the bridge of his nose and exhaled slowly. "Jace, I don't know what to tell you. There's nothing we can do, it's not our responsibility to rush after everybody. You're forgetting something important. She might be dangerous, why else would she have been at Pandemonium that night? She's probably bluffing, to get information."

"Hodge! She was completely unaware, confused out of her minds. There's no way she's a spy, and if she is dangerous she definitely doesn't know it. Let me find her; she has to be confused! If we explain it right, teach her... we could make a great Shadowhunter out of her, I know it. Tell him, Alec! Isabelle... please? You saw her. You know I'm right."

Jace turned to the siblings in desperation.

Isabelle looked taken aback. "Jace... I don't know, for sure. I mean, she seemed harmless enough, and she was definitely confused..."

Alec interrupted her. "The risk is too high, Jace. What if she is a spy? We can't just let her into the Institute."

Alec was more worried about the different side of Jace they were all seeing- a good side, brought on by the mysterious mundane. Alec almost couldn't bear to watch him.

Jace glared at him, turning to Hodge.

"She's more a liability to us if she's lost and confused. Let me find her- explain to her- and then maybe she will understand, and stay quiet. Just let me find her, I'll bring her here, you can tlak to her. She's just a girl, Hodge."

The old tutor watched Jace carefully before replying. "Yes, it seems as though she is just 'a girl' to you, Jace. Let's hope your feelings for her aren't influencing your actions too strongly. Remember that if this ends badly- it's your fault."

At that he stood up, and left.

Alec was glaring at the hardwood desk, letting his bangs cover his eyes to hide his anxiety.

Isabelle silently stood up and left the room as well, after a half-hearted smile at Jace and an anxious glance at Alec.

"Careful, Jace." She whispered.

He nodded at her.

_Why are they all so worried? Clary can't be _dangerous_, can she? _

_No. _

When the room was empty but for Alec and Jace, Alec looked up at his best friend and frowned.

He opened his mouth to say something -anything- that could change his mind. But one look at Jace's face, and he knew it was worthless.

_All Jace wants is what he can't have. _Alec thought to himself, and looked back down at the desk.

There was a noise from the other side of the library, and Jace was gone.

A single, shining tear hit the desk and Alec's shoulders shook with silent sobs as his will crumbled under the sheer force of his feelings for Jace.

"Isabelle, have you checked on the mundane?" Alec asked his sister as he finished putting breakfast's dishes away. She looked up at him and shook her head.

"No- she's still out I think. Talking about said mundane, I'd say Jace is probably playing the piano. Says it clears his head. I reckon he's just a show-off, if you ask me."

Alec laughed for what felt like the first time in days.

"That's nice, I'm glad I made you laugh. You haven't been doing much of it for a few days... Alec, are you alright?"

He swore under his breath. If anybody could get under his pretenses, it was Isabelle.

"Yeah. I'm okay. I think I'm going to check on his mundie girl again, Hodge said she might die in her sleep." Isabelle frowned, a little crease appearing in between her brows.

"Alec..." she put her hand on his arm.

"Leave it, Izzy." He shrugged her hand off and stalked out of the kitchen.

When he got to the infirmary, the girl was still exactly as she had been the day before, and the day before that... asleep and small.

He froze when he heard Isabelle speak; he hadn't realized that she'd followed him.

"I told you it was the same girl."

He sighed. "I know, little thing isn't she? Jace said she killed a Ravener."

"Yeah. I thought she was a pixie the first time we saw her. She's not pretty enough to be a pixie, though." Alec laughed at that.

"Well, nobody looks their best with demon poison in their veins. Is Hodge going to call on the Brothers?"

"I hope not. They give me the creeps. Anyone who mutilates themselves like that-"

He interrupted her. "We mutilate ourselves."

"I know, Alec, but when we do it, it isn't permanent. And it doesn't always hurt..."

"If you're old enough. Speaking of which, where is Jace? He saved her, didn't he? I would have thought he'd take some interest in her recovery."

"Hodge said he hasn't been to see her since he brought her here. I guess he doesn't care."

"Sometimes I wonder if he-Look! She moved!" The girl turned her head and frowned.

"I guess she's alive after all." Alec sighed. "I'll tell Hodge." He turned and left.

Everyone was in the library, listening to Hodge talk to the mundane.

She laughed and shook Hodge's outstretched hand. "Clary Fray."

"Honoured to make your acquaintance," he said. "I would be honoured to make the acquaintance of anyone who could kill a Ravener with her bare hands."

"It wasn't my bare hands." She looked mortified. "It was Jace's-well, I don't remember what it was called, but-"

"She means my Sensor," Jace said. "She shoved it down the thing's throat. The runes must have choked it. I guess I'll need another one," he added, almost as an afterthought. "I should have mentioned that."

"There are several extra in the weapons room," said Hodge. When he smiled at Clary, a thousand small lines rayed out from around his eyes, like the cracks in an old painting. "That was quick thinking. What gave you the idea of using the Sensor as a weapon?"

Before she could reply, a sharp laugh sounded through the room.

Clary had been so distracted by Hodge that she hadn't seen Alec sprawled in an overstuffed red armchair by the empty fireplace.

"I can't believe you buy that story, Hodge," he said, bitterly.

She spun to look at him.

"I'm not quite sure what you mean, Alec." Hodge raised an eyebrow. "Are you suggesting that she didn't kill that demon after all?"

"Of course she didn't. Look at her-she's a mundie, Hodge, and a little kid, at that. There's no way she took on a Ravener."

"I'm not a little kid," Clary interrupted. "I'm sixteen years old-well, I will be on Sunday."

"The same age as Isabelle," Hodge said. "Would you call her a child?"

"Isabelle hails from one of the greatest Shadowhunter dynasties in history," Alec said dryly. "This girl, on the other hand, hails from New Jersey."

"I'm from Brooklyn!" Clary was outraged. "And so what? I just killed a demon in my own house, and you're going to be a dickhead about it because I'm not some spoiled-rotten rich brat like you and your sister?"

Alec was astonished. _"What _did you call me?"

Jace laughed. "She has a point, Alec," Jace said. "It's those bridge-and-tunnel demons you really have to watch out for-"

"It's not _funny, _Jace," Alec interrupted, jumping to his feet in rage. _Who was he to stick up for her?_ "Are you just going to let her stand there and call me names?"

"Yes," Jace said kindly. "It'll do you good- try to think of it as endurance training."

"We may be _parabatai," _Alec said tightly. "But your flippancy is wearing on my patience."

"And your obstinacy is wearing on mine. When I found her, she was lying on the floor in a pool of blood with a dying demon practically on top of her. I watched as it vanished. If she didn't kill it, who did?"

Alec refused to believe that this mundane girl had killed a demon, while he- almost-adult Shadowhunter Alec Lightwood- still had yet to.

"Raveners are stupid. Maybe it got itself in the neck with its stinger. It's happened before-"

"Now you're suggesting it committed suicide?"

Alec's mouth tightened. "It isn't right for her to be here. Mundies aren't allowed in the Institute, and there are good reasons for that. If anyone knew about this, we could be reported to the Clave."

"That's not entirely true," Hodge said. "The Law does allow us to offer sanctuary to mundanes in certain circumstances. A Ravener has already attacked Clary's mother-she could well have been next."

Alec scowled at them all. "Raveners are search-and-destroy machines," he said. "They act under orders from warlocks or powerful demon lords. Now, what interest would a warlock or demon lord have in an ordinary mundane household?" His eyes when he looked at Clary were bright with dislike. "Any thoughts?"

Clary said, "It must have been a mistake."

"Demons don't make those kind of mistakes. If they went after your mother, there must have been a reason. If she were innocent-" Alec was interrupted.

"What do you mean, 'innocent'?" Clary's voice was quiet.

He looked taken aback. "I-"

"What he means," said Hodge, "is that it is extremely unusual for a powerful demon, the kind who might command a host of lesser demons, to interest himself in the affairs of human beings. No mundane may summon a demon-they lack that power-but there have been some, desperate and foolish, who have found a witch or warlock to do it for them."

"My mother doesn't know any warlocks. She doesn't believe in magic." She seemed to remember something. "Madame Dorothea- she lives downstairs-she's a witch. Maybe the demons were after her and got my mom by mistake?"

Hodge's eyebrows shot up into his hair. "A witch lives downstairs from you?"

"She's a hedge-witch-a fake," Jace said. "I already looked into it. There's no reason for any warlock to be interested in her unless he's in the market for non-functional crystal balls."

"And we're back where we began." Hodge reached up to stroke the bird on his shoulder. "It seems the time has come to notify the Clave."

"No!" Jace said. "We can't-"

"It made sense to keep Clary's presence here a secret while we were not sure she would recover," Hodge said. "But now she has, and she is the first mundane to pass through the doors of the Institute in over a hundred years. You know the rules about mundane knowledge of Shadowhunters, Jace. The Clave must be informed."

"Absolutely," Alec agreed. "I could get a message to my father-"

"She's not a mundane," Jace said quietly.

Hodge's eyebrows shot back up to his hairline and stayed there. Alec, caught in the middle of a

sentence, choked with surprise. In the sudden silence they could hear the sound of Hugo's wings rustling.

"But I am," she said.

"No," said Jace. "You aren't." He turned to Hodge, and Alec saw the slight movement of his throat as he swallowed. He found this glimpse of his nervousness oddly reassuring. "That night-there were Du'sien demons, dressed like police officers. We had to get past them. Clary was too weak to run, and there wasn't time to hide-she would have died. So I used my stele- put a _mendelin _rune on the inside of her arm. I thought-"

"Are you out of your _mind?" _Hodge slammed his hand down on top of the desk so hard that they thought the wood might crack. "You know what the Law says about placing Marks on mundanes! You-you of all people ought to know better!"

"But it worked," said Jace. "Clary, show them your arm."

She held out her bare arm. Just below the crease of her wrist, Alec could see three faint overlapping circles, the lines as faint as the memory of a scar that had faded with the

passage of years.

"See, it's almost gone," Jace said. "It didn't hurt her at all."

"That's not the point." Hodge could barely control his anger. "You could have turned her into a

Forsaken."

Two bright spots of colour burned high up on Alec's cheekbones. "I can't believe you, Jace. Only Shadowhunters can receive Covenant Marks- they _kill _mundanes-"

"She's not a mundane. Haven't you been listening? It explains why she could see us. She must have Clave blood."

Clary lowered her arm, feeling suddenly cold. "But I don't. I couldn't."

"You must," Jace said, without looking at her. "If you didn't, that Mark I made on your arm..."

"That's enough, Jace," said Hodge, the displeasure clear in his voice. "There's no need to frighten her further."

"But I was right, wasn't I? It explains what happened to her mother, too. If she was a Shadowhunter in exile, she might well have Downworld enemies."

"My mother wasn't a Shadowhunter!"

"Your father, then," Jace said. "What about him?"

Clary returned his gaze with a flat stare. "He died. Before I was born."

Jace flinched, almost imperceptibly.

It was Alec who spoke. "It's possible," he said uncertainly. "If her father were a Shadowhunter, and her mother a mundane-well, we all know it's against the Law to marry a mundie. Maybe they were in hiding."

"My mother would have told me," Clary said, although she sounded unsure.

"Not necessarily," said Jace. "We all have secrets."

"Luke," Clary said. "Our friend. He would know." She frowned again. "It's been three days-he must be frantic. Can I call him? Is there a phone?" She turned to Jace.

"Please."

Jace hesitated, looking at Hodge, who nodded and moved aside from the desk. Behind him was a globe, made of beaten brass, that didn't look quite like other globes she had seen; there was something subtly strange about the shape of the countries and continents. Next to the globe was an old-fashioned black telephone with a silver rotary dial. Clary lifted it to her ear, her expression blank.

"Luke!" She sagged against the desk. "It's me. It's Clary." There was a pause as she listened.

"I'm fine," she said. "I'm sorry I didn't call you before. Luke, my mom-" She paused again.

"Then you haven't heard from her." She sounded defeated. "What did the police say?" Another pause. "I'm in the city," Clary said. "I don't know where exactly. With some friends. My wallet's gone, though. If you've got some cash, I could take a cab to your place-"

She was cut off. The phone slipped in her sweaty hand. She caught it. "What? We could call-"

She stopped talking. "But I don't want to stay here." Alec heard the whine in her voice, like a child's. "I don't know these people. You-" She grew teary as the silence stretched on. "I'm sorry. It's just-" There was a beep as the phone disconnected.

She stood and stared at the receiver, the dial tone buzzing in her ear like a big ugly wasp. She dialled Luke's number again, waited. This time it went to voice mail. She banged the phone down, her hands trembling.

Jace was leaning against the armrest of Alec's chair, watching her. "I take it he wasn't happy to hear from you?"

She looked like she was about to cry.

"I think I'd like to have a talk with Clary," said Hodge. "Alone," he added firmly, seeing Jace's expression.

Alec stood up. "Fine. We'll leave you to it."

"That's hardly fair," Jace objected. "I'm the one who found her. I'm the one who saved her life! You want me here, don't you?" he appealed, turning to Clary.

Clary looked away, knowing that if she opened her mouth, she'd start to cry. From a distance, Alec laughed.

"Not everyone wants you all the time, Jace," he said. _Doesn't mean that's not the case for me, of course, _he added silently.

"Don't be ridiculous," he heard Jace say, but he sounded disappointed. "Fine, then. We'll be in the weapons room."

The door closed behind them with a definitive click as they left for training.

"Last one to the room has to pack up afterwards." Jace shot, eyes sparkling and grin blinding as he started to sprint up the stairs. Alec laughed, and followed close behind.


	7. Mundane

Alec and Jace were sitting at a long table in the weapons room, finishing off some Seraph blades that had yet to be named.

"I wonder what Hodge and Clary are talking about," said a frowning Jace, not looking up from the blade in his hands.

"Hm. I'm sure you do. It wouldn't be the first time -what is it now, this half-hour?- that you've wondered much the exact same thing." Spat Alec, more annoyed than really necessary.

Jace made an odd noise, and continued playing with his blade.

Alec started again.  
"Honestly, I don't see what you see in her. She's a mundie, Jace- even if she _does _happen to have Shadowhunter blood. You can't just put a blade in somebody's hand and expect them to be a warrior. She's still mundane in all the ways that count."

Jace bridled. "Of course she isn't! All the ways that count, my ass, Alec. She's a Shadowhunter too." He shot Alec a distasteful look. "At least she's killed one demon. That's more than you can say."

Alec started. Jace had never been openly _mean _to him, despite his many weaknesses, and he could feel the hurt biting his insides as he swallowed noisily and looked away, his tell-tale blush flooding his face with unwelcome warmth.

"Fuck off, Jace. You're such a dick; and you don't know when to shut the _hell _up. God _damn_it! You and your _stupid _hormones- this is all for some dumb girl! She isn't even pretty!"

For a second Alec thought that Jace had somehow not heard him, but then he felt the force of a fist connect with his jaw. He gasped in shock as his head rolled back, and he fell out of his chair. His skull hit the linoleum with a sickening _thud._ Alec blinked a few times in confusion and sheer surprise as he lay sprawled on the cold, hard floor of the weapons room.

Jace swore and got out of his chair, which pulled Alec out of his state of shock. He jumped up and rubbed his jaw subconsciously.

"Oh, shit, Alec... I'm sorry. I don't know what came over me, I... that was mean of me, to say that about you before. But Clary- she's not dumb, or stupid. She's clever, and smart, and.. you're right. She isn't pretty." Alec looked at him in surprise, eyebrows shooting up into his unkempt hair, hope rising in his chest- "She's beautiful. And I think I'm falling for her, hard Alec."

Alec shrank back in disappointment, blushing a deep scarlet.

_I'm so stupid. _He thought to himself.

"Not that you'd understand." Jace sat back down at the table and resumed his business with his blade. Alec merely stood there in terror.

_She wouldn't have told him? _

Panic flooded his head, and he felt himself drain of colour and warmth, being replaced with the sudden urge to be violently sick.

Jace could _never _know about his feelings for him. It would ultimately ruin their friendship, Alec just knew it. Jace took Alec's silence to be anger, and he sighed before setting the blade down once again.

Meeting his eyes, he spoke again.

"Really, Alec, I'm sorry for being a dick." He paused, but Alec didn't respond. "Huh. Fine, I'm sorry for punching you too. Though you should be able to handle a hit." He snickered. Alec narrowed his eyes.

Alec spoke suddenly. "What?"

Jace looked surprised. "What, what?"

Alec frowned. "What!"

"Wait- what are you talking about?" Jace raised one eyebrow.

"Me- not understanding? Clary? _What?_" Understanding lit up Jace's beautiful face.

"Oh, that. Well, uh, Alec, you _know..." _he laughed nervously.

Alec was frozen.

"WHAT, JACE?" His words came out harsher than intended, and he sat back down to alleviate the tension a bit.

"Er..." But Jace was saved, because right then the red-headed mundie came bursting into the room, following a tired-looking Church.

Jace looked up as the door shut behind Clary. "Where's Hodge?" he said.

"Writing to the Silent Brothers."

Alec repressed a shudder. "Ugh."

She approached the table slowly, conscious of Alec's harsh gaze. "What are you doing?"

"Putting the last touches on these." Jace gestured towards the seraph blades. "Sanvi, Sansanvi, and Semangelaf. They're seraph blades."

"Those don't look like knives. How did you make them? Magic?"

Alec was horrified, as if she'd asked him to put on a tutu and execute a perfect pirouette. As if a _Shadowhunter _would use _magic_.

"The funny thing about mundies," Jace said, to nobody in particular, "is how obsessed with magic they are for a bunch of people who don't even know what the word means."

"I know what it means," Clary snapped.

"No, you don't, you just think you do. Magic is a dark and elemental force, not just a lot of sparkly wands and crystal balls and talking goldfish."

"I never said it was a lot of talking goldfish, you-"

Jace waved a hand, cutting her off. "Just because you call an electric eel a rubber duck doesn't make it a rubber duck, does it? And God help the poor bastard who decides they want to take a bath with the duckie."

"You're drivelling," Clary observed.

"I'm not," said Jace, with great dignity.

Alec was getting tired of their bickering, so interrupted them. "Yes, you are. Look, we don't do magic, okay?" he added, not looking at Clary. "That's all you need to know about it."

Ignoring Alec, she turned to Jace. "Hodge said I can go home."

Jace nearly dropped the seraph blade he was holding. "He _said what?"_

"To look through my mother's things," she amended. "If you go with me."

"Jace," Alec exhaled, but Jace ignored him.

"If you really want to prove that my mom or dad was a Shadowhunter, we should look through my mom's things. What's left of them."

"Down the rabbit hole." Jace grinned crookedly. "Good idea. If we go right now, we should have another three, four hours of daylight."

"Do you want me to come with you?" Alec asked, as Clary and Jace moved toward the door. Clary glanced back at him. He was half-out of the chair, expectant. Of course Jace would want him to come along, to help him-

"No." Jace didn't turn around. "That's all right. Clary and I can handle this on our own."

Alec glared at Clary in disbelief. _That _devil! _who does she think she is, taking Jace away from me? _She shut the door behind her on their way out.

Alec groaned and buried his face in his hands. Thing were definitely not going his way laetly- even more so than usual.

In a desperate attempt to calm down a little- maybe even relax, Alec took a long, hot shower and then climbed into bed early for a change.

One thing was for sure, though.

Alec Lightwood was not going to be talking to _anybody _when he woke up. Inevitably, his dreams all included Jace, and Clary for a surprise, though they were both present for extremely different reasons.


End file.
